


Love with its back turned

by Ingi



Series: make it the shape of everything you need [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Pining Yuri Plisetsky, Polyamory, Pre-Grand Prix Final, Rated for Yuri Plisetsky's Language, Sad Katsuki Yuuri, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-05 20:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11585937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingi/pseuds/Ingi
Summary: Yuri admires the exposed line of his throat, the brightness of his eyes, and thinksOh, wordless, almost calm. So that's how it is. Years of pinning posters of Katsuki Yuuri on his wall have amounted to pining over Katsuki Yuuri himself, who happens to have a very devoted —terrible— boyfriend already. Fucking awesome.Or: how Yuri becomes the boyfriend of Victor's boyfriend.





	Love with its back turned

**Author's Note:**

> The super vague "Pre-Grand Prix Final" tag is because the thought of figuring out exactly _when_ this happens in canon made me wanna cry. The only thing I know for sure is they're in St. Petersburg, so let's just slap a Minor Canon Divergence patch on it and pray for the best.  
>  Also, the teen rating is mostly because Yuri swears _a lot_ , which is really nothing new.

Victor Nikiforov is totally useless.

That's just a fact of life, like the sky being blue or the Pirozhki Yuri's grandpa makes being the best in the entire world. But still, if there's anything that can be said about Victor, is that he always, always manages to surprise Yuri —and his fans, not that it matters—, and it's _never_ good. Every single time Yuri thinks _That's it, he can't possibly be more_ —whatever is Victor's most annoying trait of the day—, fucking Victor goes and ups the ante.

Today, he's the most useless Yuri has ever known him to be. His fucking boyfriend keeps walking around like a lost puppy, all sad and pathetic, so obviously out of his depth that he's about to find the Kraken, and fucking Victor won't do a thing about it. Well, not a _useful_ one, anyway. And it's not like Yuri cares about Katsudon feeling welcome, he _doesn't_ want him to feel welcome, it's already bad enough that he's even stepping on the ground of Yuri's city, but- it's embarrassing to watch, Katsuki moping like that.

They've just finished training, and Katsudon has put on the worst spectacle Yuri has ever seen. Pitiful, really. Yakov has been yelling at him for about an hour, which is nothing unusual —he's infamous for his unending lectures, after all, and everyone has learned by now to ignore him—, but Yuri knows how hard Katsuki takes any criticism, nevermind actual screaming.

Yuri watches how Victor gives Katsuki an apologetic smile and disappears with Yakov, probably to try and convince him to be less of a dick. Or at least to stop shrieking about sending Yuuri packing to another rink where Yakov can't see him making an idiot out of himself.

Another fact of life: Yuri doesn't like Katsuki Yuuri. But, and this is yet another indisputable fact, Katsuki isn't supposed to look so- so _small_. He's leaning against the rink like he's trying to occupy as little space as possible, curled into himself, eyes down and faraway. Yuri stumbled into him right after the Sochi Grand Prix fiasco, so he knows for a fact that Katsuki doesn't look this defeated even when he actually _loses_. There might have been a lot of crying back then, but at least he wasn't wearing _this_ expression.

And fucking Victor, knowing how his stupid boyfriend gets when he's alone and surrounded by strangers, has left him in a fucking unfamiliar rink where everyone has known each other for years, and right after he's been yelled at, at that.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Katsuki Yuuri is not an adult child who shatters at the slightest pressure; anyone who's ever seen him on the ice can tell. So he's not supposed to look it, _ever_. And that's the only reason Yuri slings his bag over his shoulder and approaches him, probably looking as annoyed as he feels.

"Katsuki," he barks, and Yuuri startles. "What the fuck are you doing, just standing there? Are you planning to eat the ice?" Yuri rolls his eyes at Katsudon's wide, confused eyes. "C'mon."

He takes a few steps and then glances back, and sure enough, Katsudon isn't following. Yuri gestures at him impatiently, waiting until Katsuki takes his own bag and reaches him before starting to walk again.

"Uh, where- where are we going?" Yuuri says, hesitantly. He's probably wondering if Yuri's leading him to some skeevy little place to sell his organs to the black market, or something like that. _Good_. It's always a possiblity. "Yurio?"

"Don't call me that," he warns him. He gives Mila the finger when she grins teasingly at him, pulls at Katsudon's arm to make him walk faster. "It's lunch, so we're going to get _lunch_. What the hell did you expect?"

"I-"

"And since your idiot boyfriend has ditched you and in almost an entire fucking week in Saint Petersburg you haven't managed to find your way to the bathroom, nevermind a place to eat that won't have you puking for days, someone has to make sure you don't fucking die or something." Yuri grits his teeth. "Victor would be even more insufferable than usual. He'd probably ask Georgi for his make-up so he could be as dramatic as possible while mourning you. They'd make the worst fucking pair to ever-"

Katsudon is staring at him.

That wouldn't necessarily be a problem, but Katsudon is staring at him with _fondness_ , of all the fucking things, and his eyes are all bright and happy, and Yuri just _knows_ he's taken this the wrong way. He kicks a pebble as hard as he can, barely holding in the urge to break something.

"So- where are you taking me?" Yuuri says, finally averting his eyes. There's a small smile spreading through his face, but Yuri can ignore that.

A few minutes of tense silence later —tense for Yuri; fucking Katsuki is apparently oblivious to it—, they barge into the place Yuri was looking for. The plastic seats of the McDonalds are uncomfortable as fuck, but that's all part of the experience.

"At least here you'll understand what the fuck you're ordering," he tells Katsuki, and immediately after realizes, with growing horror, that he's given the impression he's chosen this place for _Katsuki's sake_. "I'm fucking sick of Victor trying to feed me his _'homemade food'_. He calls homemade to everything he's put in the microwave all by himself. I was dying for a double big mac."

He gestures at Katsuki, leaning back into his chair in relief when he takes the hint and stands up, disappearing into the crowd to order.

Yuri sighs, internally berating himself for this stupid idea, and takes out his phone. There's a text from Victor, as expected.

 **Annoying Old Man (14:03)**  
_is my yuuri with you??_  
_is he okay?_  
_mila says she saw him leaving with you_

 **To: Annoying Old Man (14:05)**  
_i havent murdered him if thats what youre getting at_  
_but theres still time_

 **Annoying Old Man (14:05)**  
_aww, thank you for keeping an eye on him, yura! (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)_  
_I don't think I'll get to eat lunch ◔̯◔_  
_yakov is having a bad day_  
_he hasn't stopped to breathe once between screams_

Katsuki is back, weaving his way around people while carrying a tray with their lunch. He doesn't look sad anymore, or at least not as much as he did before, but there's still something Yuri doesn't like at all lurking under the surface.

 **To: Annoying Old Man (14:06)**  
_take better care of your boyfriend, asshole_

"We're not supposed to be eating this," Katsudon says, even as he offers Yuri a coke.

"Fuck that shit," Yuri replies, between bites of his burger. "I'm going to beat everyone at the Grand Prix, no matter what I eat."

"Fair enough," Katsuki smiles. He's eating more delicately than anything that comes from McDonalds deserves, but he's apparently not as squeamish about getting his hands dirty as Yuri had imagined. In fact, he seems to be more in his element than he ever did in Yuri's rink. "So, McDonalds?" he suddenly says, startling Yuri.

"Yeah."

"I'd figured you'd be more of a Burger King fan."

Yuri _is_ , in fact. McDonalds everywhere are always trying to pretend to be what they're not, all healthy and modern and shit, as fucking pretentious as Starbucks —only Starbucks deserves the fame, goddamnit—, but Burger Kings know they're crappy restaurants and fucking _own it_. It was just a throwaway comment, Yuri knows that, but he still can't help but be _slightly_ impressed by Yuuri's apparent insight into his character.

"McDonalds was closer," he replies, warily, neither confirming nor denying the observation. He can feel his lips curling upwards anyway. "How the hell do you know about the Burger King-McDonalds pique, anyway? Aren't Japanese like, allergic to burgers or some shit? I didn't see any fast food chains in Hasetsu."

"It's a pretty small town," Yuuri says, shrugging. "There are some in the prefecture, though." He smiles at Yuri, as he metodically cleans his fingers however he can with the shitty paper napkins. "But you do remember that I lived in Detroit. And if there's one thing America has, it's fast food chains."

"You're fucking weird, Katsuki," Yuri decides.

Katsudon _beams_ at him.

"Thank you, Yuri," he says, and Yuri has the feeling that's not what he's really thanking him for.

He lets it go.

 

* * *

 

Next day, Katsudon's training is marginally less pathetic.

Yakov is too distracted yelling at Georgi to do anything about it, anyway. But at least that way Katsudon's not-so-terrible mood holds, and Victor is there to take him out for lunch, so Yuri's work is done, thank fuck. He eats alone. It's more boring than he remembered, and a feeling of _wrong wrong wrong_ is crawling under his skin.

He's just walked out of Baranovskaya's ballet studio, sweaty and exhausted, when his phone starts oinking. He'll _never_ get that tired of that personalized ringtone.

 **Katsuki Yuuri (18:32)**  
_Yuri, are you busy?_

 **To: Katsuki Yuuri (18:32)**  
_why_

 **Katsuki Yuuri (18:34)**  
_I was thinking of cooking something for tonight,_  
_but Victor's fridge only has half a lemon, tabasco sauce, and a moldy potato._  
_(How has he survived until now???)_

Yuri snorts. If Katsudon hasn't learned yet his boyfriend is a fuck-up of a man, he will soon.

 **To: Katsuki Yuuri (18:34)**  
_microwave meals_  
_just check the fridge_  
_also shamelessly scrounging food from everyone_  
_but why should i care_

 **Katsuki Yuuri (18:35)**  
_Well, I need to go shopping, but I don't speak Russian._  
_And you do._  
_I might make katsudon, if it helps._

Uh. Yuri _was_ planning to tell him to fuck off, but he does love katsudon, and he hasn't had any since he left Japan.

 **To: Katsuki Yuuri (18:35)**  
_be there in 10_

Yuri doesn't really understand why Katsudon's bothering, though. They'll all leave Saint Petersburg in less than two weeks, and it's not like Katsuki's coming back- or is he? Yuri can't _fucking believe_ \- No, Katsudon wouldn't move in with Victor so soon. No one in their right mind would, but then again, no one in their right mind would date Victor either, and yet... And Yuri doesn't get the appeal at all. Victor is annoying and loud and fucking _empty_ , he's like a mannequin or a character in a movie, there's nothing behind the facade; even his skating is the same, seemingly perfect and boring as hell.

Meanwhile, Katsudon... Yuri hates to even think it, but the truth is he could do much better than Victor. He's a bit like he skates, too, with his flaws apparent but still so- _bright_. All the competitors Yuri knows skate to the music, but Katsudon- when he does it right, the music plays for _him_. It's like nothing Yuri's ever seen.

"Ah, Yuri!" Katsuki says, pleased, opening the door just a second after Yuri knocks. "Thank you for coming! I really do need your help."

And Yuri- Yuri says nothing.

He takes them to the closest supermarket there is to Victor's flat, patiently follows Katsudon around as he gathers pork chops and rice and who knows what else, feeling like there's something he's missing, or like he's accidentally got stuck in a role that wasn't meant for him. He doesn't seem to be that useful to Yuuri, either, unless he's needed to help him figure out how Russian currency works.

"Your cooking'd better be at least as good as your mother's," Yuri grumbles, while Katsuki goes wild in the condiments corridor. "I'm not wasting my time here for substandard katsudon."

"I don't think anyone can cook as well as their parents," Yuuri replies, grinning. "Unless your Pirozhki is better than your grandfather's?" he adds, and Yuri nearly chokes on air. Grandpa is not his parent, obviously, but he really is the closest thing Yuri has. He can't tell if Katsuki has said so on purpose or not. "I did practice a lot while I was studying in Detroit, though," Katsuki continues, weighing an onion in his hand. "It's a bit of a tradition, in Japan, eating katsudon before an important exam. It felt as if I'd- uh, I know it sounds ridiculous, but- it felt as if I couldn't risk not following it and getting bad luck because of it." He glances at Yuri, brief and self-conscious. "Maybe I just wanted to have something familiar. Detroit was- hard, at first."

He's all pensive and shit, turning that onion in his hand like it holds all the secrets of the universe, and Yuri knows this is the perfect opening to find out what the hell is going on with him and try to fix whatever it is and shit... but he's not Katsudon's fucking mom, goddamnit. That's apparently Victor's job now, and it's not Yuri's fault that he sucks at it.

"That's a fucking weird tradition," he says, instead.

"Oh, not really," Katsuki replies, as he finally lets the onion fall into the bag. "It's because _katsu_ sounds like the verb for winning, so it's supposed to give luck."

"And did it work?"

Yuuri turns to face him, grinning.

"Ahh- yes. I think it did."

Yuri rolls his eyes and takes the bag from him, so Katsuki can dig into his pockets for his wallet.

"Move, Katsuki," Yuri huffs. "You've got katsudon to make."

But then, when they're back in Victor's flat and Yuuri is happily cooking in the kitchen like he actually belongs there —Yuri pretending he's not watching, fascinated—, a key starts turning in the lock, and Yuri realizes he's been a fucking _idiot_.

"Yuuri!" Victor sing-songs, more dancing than walking into the kitchen. And Victor supposedly _can_ dance, so there's no reason for him to be so laughably bad at it right now. "I'm home!"

"Hey," Yuri mumbles. He jumps down from the counter —Katsudon has told him to do that at least four times already, but until now Yuri didn't have any reason to do so— and taps Katsudon's shoulder. "Your stupid boyfriend's here. Pack the katsudon when you're done and I'll fuck off."

"What?" Yuuri startles,. "No, of course not. Please stay for dinner, Yuri."

"Yes, stay, Yura!"

Yuri turns on his heels to glare at Victor, but he's already too busy staring at Katsudon with the stupidest, most besotted smile ever. And Katsudon's staring right back. It makes absolutely no sense to stay; it's not like Yuri _likes_ being subjected to these two being irritatingly in love.

"Yeah, sure," he hears himself saying. "But if you get too gross while I'm eating, I'm kicking both of you out, I don't care whose fucking flat this is."

Victor barely hears him, utterly focused on cupping Katsudon's face like he's precious and leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. Yuri looks away, and then he looks at them again —because it's a fucking trainwreck, morbidly interesting despite the disgust churning in his gut— and Yuuri is beaming at him. At _him_.

Yuri bites his lips, hard, to keep himself from smiling back, and sinks down into a chair.

It's going to be a _long_ night.

 

* * *

 

It's three in the fucking morning on a Saturday, and Katsuki Yuuri is _skating_.

He's twirling on the ice of the Russian rink, messy hair getting into his eyes, and somehow being obviously sleep-deprived doesn't prevent him from landing a pretty good quad Salchow. In his _pijamas_.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Yuri says, stunned.

Katsudon nearly loses his balance from how fast he whips his head around. He stops moving, silent and still on the ice, making a perfect impression of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Uhm... Victor has a spare key," Katsudon replies, smiling awkwardly. "What are _you_ doing here? It's late."

At least he has the decency to look ashamed when Yuri gives him his patented _are-you-fucking-kidding-me_ glare. This is not the time to talk about Yuri's terrible life choices —he's staying in the room above  Baranovskaya's ballet studio and it sucks, so what if he wanted some fresh air and possibly to improve his step sequence before his next competition, so what if he didn't think to look at the hour before he set off—, it's _Katsuki's_ turn to be shamed.

"Yes, it's very late, Katsudon," Yuri agrees, folding his arms over his chest and sitting on one of the benches. "But I've got a reason to be here, even though it's none of your fucking business, and I don't think you do."

Yuuri shrugs, a wry little smile in his face. He doesn't point out that what _he_ 's doing in the rink is none of Yuri's business either, because that's Katsuki Yuuri for you.

"I couldn't sleep. Everything is so- different, I guess."

"So you stole Victor's key so you could come here and break your fucking legs before the Grand Prix?" Yuri says, and makes an angry gesture in his direction. "Get off the fucking ice, Katsudon."

"I didn't _steal_ it," he replies, indignant. But he does obey, skating back to firm ground and getting his skates off. "I was just borrowing it. But honestly, that man- he just had them lying around. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even remember he has them. It's almost as bad as his trophies-" he keeps babbling, and he lets himself fall on a bench, next to Yuri. "Have you _seen_ it? He has most of them in a box, hidden under around fifty old magazines I _know_ he's never read, but then I'll open a cupboard and there will be one of them, and I'll take a towel from the hanger and it'll turn out that the hanger is really another trophy."

"Victor is a madman," Yuri says, trying to ignore how their legs are almost touching. It's annoyingly distracting. "Took you long enough to get it."

"But- he just doesn't _care_ about the trophies," Yuuri insists, turning towards Yuri with desperate eyes, like this is somehow news to him. "No pride, no fondness- _nothing_. They don't mean anything to him!"

"I know."

They exchange a gaze of wordless, bewildered horror. It's the most connected Yuri has ever felt to Katsudon. Possibly the most connected he's ever felt to _anyone_.

Katsudon breaks first, lowering his eyes with a small, private smile.

"This is very different from Detroit," he says. Yuri swallows down his automatic _duh_. "Maybe it's because I'm older. But I think I'm supposed to get braver, not- Uhm, well. I had Phichit then. Ah, I have Victor now, of course! And he tries really hard, but- I don't know. It's difficult. And back then I was too busy, between college and skating and the parties Phichit dragged me to, to really feel out of place. I-" He spreads his hands on his lap, palms up, and stares at them, curling the fingers slightly, like he's making sure they still work. "I _belonged_ there, I guess. I was doing things."

"You're doing things here too," Yuri blurts out, and immediately recoils, but Katsudon doesn't move. "I'm not saying you're doing them _well_ , but- you've only been here for a week. You just don't remember how awkward everything always is at first, because you're an old man with shitty memory."

"We're nearly the same age," Katsudon replies, warmly. "And you're not wrong, I suppose. I'm just- I'm being ridiculous."

"No more than usual," Yuri says, scowling. He tenses when Katsudon leans back on his left arm, turning his body half on Yuri's direction and bringing them closer, enough that Yuri can smell Victor's ridiculously fruity shampoo on his hair. He's completely caught off guard, and maybe that's why he lets the words slip. "Sometimes I miss Moscow, and I'm literally in the same fucking country. I could take a plane and be there in under two hours. But you- you're not even in the same continent. So if I- uh, you're allowed to be- uhh, sad or whatever."

This time Katsudon does look at him, and he's fucking _grinning_ , and when he touches the back of Yuri's hand with his hesitant fingers, Yuri doesn't pull away. His heart is beating in his throat. He didn't think of moving his hand before, when Katsudon first shifted, or rather, he did think of it and he knew their fingers were almost touching and he just didn't do anything about it, because he's fucking _weak_.

"Thank you, Yura," Yuuri says, soft and kind, and Yuri can feel how much he means it in his bones.

And then Katsudon's hand is covering his and he's wrapping his free arm around Yuri in what has to be the most tentative, awkward half-hug ever. Yuri only breathes —but not too deeply; Victor's fucking shampoo doesn't smell nearly that annoying on Katsudon—, and he doesn't hug back, but he lets Yuuri rest his head on his shoulder even though the weird position is probably giving him a crick in the neck.

"Yes," Yuri mumbles. "Yeah, okay. Whatever."

Yuuri snorts against Yuri's shoulder, and finally ends the hug, taking his hand away from Yuri's too. He stands up and looks down at him, beaming, while in his ridiculous baby blue pijamas with a panda printed on the front and with his hair sticking everywhere, and Yuri's throat is completely dry, just like that, and that's when he understands that he has a _huge_ problem.

"If you can find a place that sells coffee at three in the morning," Katsudon says, bright and happy, "it's on me."

"Four, actually," Yuri manages to reply, after checking his phone. "We have to be back here in less than two hours. And I'm not taking you anywhere with you wearing those stupid pijamas."

"I have an overcoat."

Well. That's settled, then.

They don't bother to go back home, wherever that is. Yuri finds them an open coffee shop in under fifteen minutes, and they sit in front of each other and sip their coffees —with chocolate syrup for Yuri, and with sugar for Katsudon— in total silence, until suddenly, probably because of the lack of sleep, they start _talking_. And about really random shit, at that, like how tea is kind of overrated — _really, Katsudon, you're a disappointment to your entire culture_ — or that time a hungover Georgi shoved his face into strawberry jam and yelled he was a beautiful phoenix before curling up inside the chimney and falling asleep — _is_ that _why Mila Babicheva always laughs when hotel restaurants have packets of strawberry jam on the table for breakfast?_ —.

Two coffees each later, they leave for the rink.

Yuuri gets himself immediately expelled after he gets his overcoat off, revealing the pijamas he's still wearing underneath.

 

* * *

 

So, Yuri already knows he's _fucked_. But he doesn't really understand how much until he wakes up a few days later, turns off the alarm he always forgets to disable for Sunday mornings and, still half-sleep, the pillow sticking to his cheek, texts Katsuki fucking Yuuri.

 **To: Katsudon (5:41)**  
_im awake at this ungodly hour_  
_help_  
_it was an accident_  
_im gonna go back to sleep now_  
_but later ill want to do something that doesnt make me wanna puke_

 **Katsudon (5:42)**  
_And if I already have plans?_

 **To: Katsudon (5:42)**  
_fucking cancel them_  
_you can smooch with your stupid boyfriend any other time_

 **Katsudon (5:43)**  
_He's not even awake yet, actually._

 **To: Katsudon (5:43)**  
_so he does have some redeemable qualities after all_  
_im shook_  
_remember ill be there at 10_

And then Yuri falls back asleep, phone still in his hand, and doesn't think about it —or about anything— for a few blessed hours.

Of course, everything goes to hell when he wakes up again, gets dressed while in automatic, and walks to Victor's flat. He doesn't ring, only stands there for a few minutes, and at 9:59 exactly, Yuuri opens the door and takes a step back, startled, before grinning at him. And then, then it's when Yuri thinks _what the fuck am I doing_ , because it hits him that he's choosing to spend his first —and probably last— free morning in ages with _Katsuki_. Voluntarily. And _Yuri_ was the one who asked.

Which means that he's clearly losing his mind, and that he's somehow _friends_ with Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri is his _friend_. And that leads back to the first point: this is weird and Yuri is fucked, and this time it has nothing to do with finding Katsudon attractive —he has eyes, after all— and a lot to do with suddenly having a fucking friend and that friend being Katsuki. What the hell.

"Victor's still sleeping," Katsudon says, as greeting, like Yuri gives a fuck.

"May he stay that way forever," he grits between his teeth, and Yuuri, Yuuri _laughs_.

"He _is_ a lot of trouble when he's awake," he says, cheerful, with a positively evil glint in his eyes. Yuri is fucking salivating. "Let's take a walk, Yura. I've heard Saint Petersburg is famous for its parks, but no one's shown me any yet."

"They're not that great," Yuri says, looking down. "But sure, I'll take you on a fucking _date_ in the park."

"Fine by me," Katsudon replies, soft.

After a second, Yuri actually processes what he's just said and what Katsudon has answered, and it's way too fucking close to _flirting_ , even he can tell that, but it can't be fucking flirting because Katsudon is in love with Victor —fuck if Yuri knows why— and Yuri hasn't even decided if he wants to have him as a friend, not that he seems to have any choice on the matter.

They're walking very close together. Their sides are constantly brushing, and it's fucking maddening, and Saint Petersburg's parks are actually really pretty but Yuri can't help but think that Yuuri is _prettier_ , and prettier against a background of pretty is just- too much. The whole situation is ridiculous, and infuriating, and Yuri should hate it but the worst part of it is how he doesn't.

At some point, he just slips a hand into the pocket of Yuuri's coat that is closer to him, and tugs at it to hold Yuuri close. He wants to take his fucking _hand_ instead, but he doesn't. Yuuri blinks at him, wide-eyed, and Yuri scowls.

"What?" he says, sullen and ashamed. "I was trying to steal your phone."

But he leaves his hand there, and Yuuri doesn't call him out on it. But he does look thoughtful, and not in a good way, so Yuri makes a dig at the hamster-shaped pin he's just noticed Katsudon's wearing, effectively distracting Katsudon into telling him a really weird story about Phichit Chulanont and pseudo-intellectual play about talking animals in a Detroit outdoor theatre.

"-so Phichit started taking selfies while he ran, and the actors were yelling and throwing atrezzo at us, and then- well, I turned my head for a second and Chris was suddenly jumping out of backstage-"

"Chris?" Yuri interrupts, fascinated despite himself. "You mean Giacometti?"

"Uhh- yes, that Chris."

"Since when was Giacometti there?! You didn't even mention him!"

"Because he _wasn't_ there!" Yuuri replies, smiling helplessly. "It was the first time I'd seen him in months! He just- _appeared_ , stole a broom, and slapped the leading actor with it."

"Shit."

"And by when he caught up with us, he had tomato sauce all over his clothes —and to this day he refuses to explain how that happened, by the way, but he still brings it up _all the time_ —, and he had _'accidentally'_ taken two pins and a hat from the actors, and obviously none of us were going to return to give them back," Yuuri winces, apologetic, like this is somehow _more_ outrageous than anything else he's told Yuri that happened that day, "so Chris kept the hat, and Phichit gave me the hamster-shaped pin and kept the dog-shaped one because then we'd be- uh, connected, you see, because actually I'm more of a dog person and he's more of a-" A sudden pause. "Yura? What's wrong?"

What's _wrong_ is that Yuri is trying very hard to keep his laughter in, but he hasn't heard such a ridiculous story in his entire fucking life, and really, it's just not worth it. Katsudon actually fucking stumbles when he hears Yuri laughing.

"What- the- _fuck_ ," Yuri wheezes. An old man scowls at him, but Yuri can't even stop shaking for long enough to give him the finger.

"It wasn't my fault!" Katsudon says, sounding more than a little frantic. "I was a dance major, not a theatre one! I don't know why they thought I should go to that play either!"

"Wait, a _dance_ major?" Yuri startles. "Weren't you a physics major?"

"Both, actually, but- Wait, Yura, how do you know that? It's not exactly public knowledge."

Except that it sort of is. If you're a fucking creep who's dived deep into the internet for every single interview with Katsuki Yuuri, Japanese ice skater, and devoured them while storing every bit of information away, and you happen to remember that two years ago, Yuuri made an offhand mention to how his physics major helps him calculate how to do his spins —which is about the coolest fucking thing ever, and it's ridiculous that the interviewer ignored it to talk about the competition—, but Yuri is most definitely _not_ telling Katsudon any of that.

"Anyway," he says, blushing under Katsudon's perplexed gaze. "How do you even get into these messes? I spend way too many time with fucking _Victor Nikiforov_ and I've never lived this sort of shit."

Yuuri is, again, effectively distracted —Yuri is starting to think he does it on purpose; no one can be that oblivious—, and he gently pulls Yuri down to sit on a bench. Yuri still doesn't get his hand out of Katsudon's pocket, which leaves their sides completely plastered together. He can't fucking breathe.

"Well, if anyone tried to drag you anywhere, you'd probably- I don't know, glare at them until they went away," Katsudon says, chuckling, like that's somehow _endearing_. This has never happened to Yuri before, not unless it was also charged with a good serving of  condescension. "Meanwhile, someone asks _me_ to go somewhere and I always end up giving up like a goddamned idiot. Every single time. Even if it's Chris. Sometimes I wonder what normal people were doing at the time, while I was being chased by murderous actors through campus."

"I was probably training," Yuri shrugs, breath hitching involuntarily when his shoulder jogs Katsudon's.

"Yes, I was training too," Katsudon replies, sighing. "That didn't help with Chris, who was, supposedly, training as well."

"No, I mean I was _only_ training," Yuri says, low and steady, and waits.

Katsudon is silent for a long moment. His body is relaxed against Yuri's, though, which is a good sign, but Yuri still doesn't fucking trust it.

"Oh," Katsudon says, at last. "That explains a lot."

"Like _what_?" Yuri hisses, knowing he sounds defensive as hell, not giving a shit.

But Yuuri only looks at him, smiling, and shakes his head. The hand that is lying on his lap twiches for a moment, as if thinking of moving, but finally stays still and curls into a tight fist.

"How you're that good at skating, for one," he says, quietly. "Maybe if I'd been that focused on my training, I could measure up to your team."

"...What? Didn't you fucking hear me? I don't have _any_ majors. I didn't study shit."

"Yes, it was implied."

"So?" Yuri insists, now really fucking furious. Katsudon glances at him blankly. "Aren't you going to give me any shit for it?"

"Why would I do that?" Yuuri asks, sounding genuinely baffled.

Fucking Katsuki Yuuri and his fucking- _whatever_. Yuri might or might not be choking up a little. He doesn't bother answering Katsudon. He leans into him, just slightly —plausible deniability and all that—, and stares firmly at the tree in front of him until his eyes stop burning.

"Did you know that once, Victor got so drunk that he tried to tackle a tree?" he finally says, and Yuuri bursts into startled laughter.

Yuri admires the exposed line of his throat, the brightness of his eyes, and thinks _Oh_ , wordless, almost calm. So that's how it is. Years of pinning posters of Katsuki Yuuri on his wall have amounted to pining over Katsuki Yuuri himself, who happens to have a very devoted —terrible— boyfriend already. Fucking awesome. This is the second worst revelation of his life, right after remembering that his grandpa is not immortal.

He takes his hand out of Yuuri's pocket, in the end, keeps it clutching his own thigh and digging into it with sharp nails. They are still sitting way too close to each other, but Yuri doesn't do anything about that one. He only has so much will.

"Victor is so- so-" Yuuri tries to say, between small chuckles. "Well, he really is something else."

"Last year, he choreographed an entire routine to the music of Beauty and the Beast because Mila said he'd be a terrible Belle _once_ as a throwaway comment," Yuri replies, wry. "I think he passed the _something else_ line a long while ago, and dived right into _so fucking weird he's probably from another planet_ territory."

Yuuri laughs again, and if that makes pride —and some other feeling he really doesn't want to analize— bloom in Yuri's chest, well, fuck that shit.

"I'm really glad to get to talk to you like this, Yura," Katsudon says, soft. His expression suggests that he knows exactly how important the pieces of himself Yuri has given away are, that he understands why Yuri needs to act like it's not such a big deal, and that he's still deeply, sincerely touched. What he actually says is, "I love Victor, but sometimes he's- too much."

"He's really fucking extra, that's what he is," Yuri replies, ignoring how his chest has tightened painfully. Katsudon's leg is pressed against his own, and their arms keep brushing. He shoves him away and stands up, hands deep into his own pockets. "Move, Katsudon. I want ice cream."

"Ice cream?" Katsudon repeats, horrified. "Yura, it's freezing!"

"This is Russia, Katsudon. Get used to it."

 

* * *

 

They're leaving today.

Well, Katsudon and Victor. Yuri's staying, of course, because inconvenient crushes be damned, he's still going to win the Grand Prix, just fucking watch him, and for that, training under Yakov and Baranovskaya while Katsudon wastes his time with Victor —a good skater, but a _terrible_ coach— is a necessity.

Yuri has grudgingly accepted his fate as Katsudon's _friend_ , and as such, he's found himself with a lot of first-hand information. He knows, to name some of it, that Katsudon and Victor's flight is not as inhumanely early as they're making it out to be, but rather that they're dragging themselves out of bed to say goodbye to the Russian team. Or at least, that's what they're supposed to be doing, but it's already seven in the morning and they're not here.

 **To: Katsudon (7:02)**  
_wtf katsudon_  
_are you coming or not_  
_i need to make fun of victors hangover face_

"Yuri!" Yakov yells. That man is entirely too awake and energetic for a post-party Friday, especially for someone who nearly drank Victor under the table —Yuri didn't drink at all, and Katsudon knocked back a single shot because of peer pressure and spent the rest of the night making faces in Yuri's direction at the others' drunken antics—. "Yuri, get on the ice! We don't have all day!"

So Yuri rolls his eyes and does it, but only because he was already planning to anyway, and Yakov moves on to his next victim. Yuri skates, focused on his routine and tuning everything else out, for an indeterminate amount of time. And then, he hears it.

"Yurochka!"

At first, for a wild, brief moment, he's certain it's Grandpa. Except that it's impossible, for several reasons, including Yuri not having any competitions today and the voice not sounding like Grandpa at all. But he's instinctively turned around as soon as he's heard the nickname, either way, which positions him the perfect way to watch the entirety of the scene that unfolds in a few second.

He checks and yes, Katsudon's standing in the rink, waving at him with a grin. But Yuri's immediately distracted by Mila going from her usual gracefulness to failing a beginner's jump, and to her right, Georgi, who had been lazily twirling on the ice, somehow slips and falls flat on his ass. For the sound of it, he's either cracked the ice or a bone, too, not like Yuri cares, especially when the unthinkable happens and _Yakov's cigar falls out of his mouth_.

"Georgi!" Katsudon cries out, wide-eyed, holding onto the edge of the rink's wall. "Georgi, are you alright?"

And Georgi, who never wastes an opportunity to be unnecessarily dramatic, only stands up and whispers, utter horror in his face,

"Yeah. Are _you_?"

And Yuri suddenly understands that they're all waiting for him to tear Katsudon's head off.

Of course. He's kind of waiting for that too, honestly —Katsudon did just use a nickname that is entirely off-limits for anyone but Yuri's grandpa—, but- it's just not happening. After an instant, Yuri just gives up on it and shrugs to himself. There _is_ some vindictive pleasure in not being that predictable.

"Wassup," he says.

He can feel everyone's gaze fixed on him, and it's all he can do not to let his grin show. Katsudon, on the other hand, steps back from the rink's wall in confusion, clearly not getting what's going on at all.

"Uhm- well, Victor and I are kind of behind the schedule, so we've got to run," he says, words awkwardly tumbling out of his mouth, and smiles at Yuri. "I won't keep you from your training anymore; I just wanted to see you before leaving." He waves at Yuri's rinkmates, seeming to sink into himself a little. "Uhh- it was great to meet you all!"

"Yuuri!" Victor's voice groans from outside, in the uncomfortable, stunned silence that follows. "I'm dying! Are you done yet?!"

"I'm just saying goodbye to your rinkmates!" Katsudon replies, sounding like he's not-so-gently suggesting that Victor should be doing the same.

"We did that yesterday! And I regret _everything_!"

Yuuri sighs, the slightest of the smiles in his face, and looks apologetically at the world in general.

"Ah, goodbye, everyone," he says, and then, beaming at Yuri. "Bye, Yurochka! I'll text you after the competition!"

"Yeah, yeah," Yuri replies, mentally getting ready to go back to his routine. "Don't let Victor get too annoying. There are emergency exits in the plane for a reason."

"Oh, I could _never_ ," Katsudon huffs, trying —badly— to hide a grin. "They're pressurized, you know."

Yuri doesn't laugh, but the urge must show in his face, because he could swear he hears Yakov muttering _fuck my life_ under his breath. Well. He has a competition to train for, anyway, so he waits until Katsudon leaves and then starts back from the top.

"That was black magic, that's what it was!" Georgi whisper-shouts. "That man is a _wizard_."

Yuri, who is supposed to be focused on his training, secretly agrees.

 

* * *

 

 **Katsudon (19:23)**  
_I just got tagged in a couple's selfie by JJ._  
_I can't believe he's still dating Isabella._  
_Or, well, I can't believe Isabella is still dating him._

 **To: Katsudon (19:28)**  
_i know right_  
_how can she stand him_  
_im pretty sure he needs a mirror to get off with her_

 **Katsudon (19:29)**  
_Don't be crass, Yura!_  
_Besides, they don't do that._

 **To: Katsudon (19:29)**  
_????????!!!_

 **Katsudon (19:29)**  
_I know._  
_I'm horrified I know that too._  
_But he's always saying, very loudly, how he's waiting for marriage._

 **To: Katsudon (19:30)**  
_but thats so out of character wtf_

 **Katsudon (19:30)**  
_Maybe? I don't know him that well._

 **To: Katsudon (19:31)**  
_but you hate him_

 **Katsudon (19:31)**  
_I don't hate him!_  
_But he's... exasperating._  
_Alright, he's VERY ANNOYING._

 **To: Katsudon (19:31)**  
_yeah but youre used to annoying_  
_youre friends with giacometti somehow_  
_and youre dating VICTOR_  
_just face it katsudon_  
_everyone hates jj_  
_its sort of his superpower_

 **Katsudon (19:33)**  
_I thought that was never realizing how pretentious he is?_

 **To: Katsudon (19:33)**  
_that too_

 

* * *

 

 **To: Katsudon (16:59)**  
_THSI IS THE BEST CAT VDIEO EVER_  
_[link]_  
_WATCH THE FUKC OUT OF IT KATSUDIOKJ_

 **Katsudon (17:00)**  
_Yura, this is the fourth cat video this week._  
_I'm afraid I don't have your dedication._

 **To: Katsudon (17:00)**  
_I SAID WHATCH THATSHIT_  
_IF YOUDONT APPREWCIATE CAT WIVEOS YOU DONT APPRECIATE ME_

 **Katsudon (17:00)**  
_You're not a cat, Yura._

 **To: Katsudon (17:00)**  
_IF YYOU HAVE A CAT HSHIRT YOURE A CAT_  
_I DONT MAKET HE RULES_  
_[link]_  
_WATCH_

 **Katsudon (17:02)**  
_I really need to go right now!_  
_I'm competing in a few hours._  
_Don't worry, Yura, I'll make sure to watch it later._

 **To: Katsudon (17:03)**  
_YES_  
_CRUSH THE FUCK OUTA THOSE TUCKERS_  
_THEN WHATCH CAT VIEO_  
_[link]_  
_THEN TELL ME HOW THEY CRIED WHEN UOU WON_  
_THEN WATHC ANOTHER CAT VIEDO_  
_[link] [link] [link]_

 **Katsudon (17:09)**  
_Will do._

 

* * *

 

 **To: Katsudon (3:35)**  
_katsudon i dont want to fucking sleep_  
_you know what im just gonna ask your sister for really embarrassing memories_  
_she already texts me anyway_

 **Katsudon (8:11)**  
_!!!!!_  
_Please don't!!_  
_That's not fair, Yura, I don't have your grandfather's number._  
_And why are you texting my sister?!_

 **To: Katsudon (8:24)**  
_what the fuck were you doing katsudon_  
_and i dont text her_  
_she texts me bcs shes a fucking creep im sorry you had to find out like this_

 **Katsudon (8:27)**  
_At half past three in the morning? I was SLEEPING!_  
_You should try it!_

 **To: Katsudon (8:28)**  
_nah_  
_your sister was very unhelpful tho_  
_boo_  
_im just gonna block her then_

 **Katsudon (8:28)**  
_Great! Thank you!_

 **To: Katsudon (8:28)**  
_not so fast katsudon_  
_i can ask her for your friends number first_  
_the one from the rink_  
_shes known you since you were a child hasnt she_

 **Katsudon (8:32)**  
_Yura!!!_

 **To: Katsudon (8:40)**  
_whoops yakovs yelling at me_  
_i have to go_

 **Katsudon (8:40)**  
_ARE YOU SERIOUS??!_  
_YOU HAVEN'T LISTENED TO YAKOV A DAY IN YOUR LIFE, YURA._

 **To: Katsudon (8:45)**  
_[Contact: Grandpa]_

 **Katsudon (8:45)**  
_Thank you, Yura._

 

* * *

 

 **Katsudon (13:20)**  
_I'll see you in Moscow for Rostelecom!!_

 **To: Katsudon (13:22)**  
_im going to crush you katsudon_  
_if only so victor doesnt ever make out with you on live international tv again_  
_someone has to save the world from that_

 **Katsudon: (13:23)**  
_It was sweet!_

 **To: Katsudon (13:23)**  
_if i have to see 1 single more gif of it_  
_i will fucking kill both of you and then myself_

 **Katsudon (13:23)**  
_Your grandfather is coming, isn't he?_

 **To: Katsudon (13:23)**  
_good distraction tactic_  
_yeah he is_  
_he has to watch me win gold_

 **Katsudon (13:24)**  
_That's great, Yura!_  
_I'm so happy for you!_

 **To: Katsudon (13:34)**  
_whatever_  
_you need to watch me win too_

 **Katsudon (13:36)**  
_I'm competing!_

 **To: Katsudon (13:36)**  
_and you owe me like three hundred coffees_

 **Katsudon (13:36)**  
_I invited you out for coffee twice in St. Petersburg._  
_That doesn't mean it's a tradition now._

 **To: Katsudon (13:37)**  
_so im not getting coffee??_

 **Katsudon (13:39)**  
_Of course you're getting coffee._

 **To: Katsudon (13:39)**  
_i look forward to seeing you again_  
_in that case_

 **Katsudon (13:39)**  
_I look forward to seeing you, too._

 

* * *

 

Rostelecom Cup is fucking _awesome_.

Yuri beats his highest score, Katsudon manages to save what was sizing up to be a terrible fuck-up of a performance, and both of them qualify for the Grand Prix —not that Yuri ever doubted that, but it's always great to be proven right—. Plus, Grandpa comes and gives him what instantly becomes Yuri's new favorite food. The only way that moment could've been better was if Katsudon had actually met Yuri's grandpa, but that would've probably been terrifying for a good number of reasons, so nevermind.

And then Yuuri takes his arm when he's about to go, thoughtful, and asks him to go to Hasetsu with him.

Yuri really, really shouldn't. He has to get back to Saint Petersburg or Yakov will definitely kill him, and he doesn't have any business in Hasetsu on the first place, and Katsudon won't even explain what he wants him there for.

And yet, somehow, hours later Yuri finds himself in Hasetsu's airpoirt, being received by a beaming Victor and his stupid dog, both of who throw themselves at Katsudon like they haven't seen him in years. Yuri spent _months_ without seeing him and he wasn't nearly that pathetic; he can excuse the dog —maybe—, but definitely not Victor, fuck him.

Well. At least he can cheer himself up with the original katsudon.

"So, like, he fucking went and won the gold!" Yuri says, much later, through a mouth full of delicious food. Yuuri's mother, the only one of his family who's still eating with them at this point of the night, is resting her head on her hands and watching them with a smile, and honestly, it's more than a little creepy, but he's trying to ignore that. "What the fuck!"

"Yura, don't insult the poor skater just because he was better than you," Victor sing-songs.

At the same time, Yuuri groans in apparent pain.

"I'm so _tired_ of that man!"

There's a pause. Victor blinks, turns to stare at Katsudon, and then gazes back at Yuri. Katsudon, to his credit, doesn't take anything back, only sinks a little in his seat.

"You don't like him?" Victor asks, baffled.

Yuri sort of gets that. Katsudon not liking someone _is_ unfathomable, until you find him in the appropiate mood and hear him bitching like a pro. Honestly, Yuri falls a little more in love everytime it happens- which sucks, okay, but it's still fucking _beautiful_.

"Oh, please, Vitya, you've met him," Yuuri mutters. "I don't think anyone does."

Another second of silence.

"I've met him?"

Katsudon and Yuri execute a perfectly synchronized facepalm.

"Jean-Jacques Leroy," Katsudon reminds him, gently. "He's the one who's always going on about beating you, Vitya."

"Oh, I have a lot of those," Victor replies, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.

"I hate you," Yuri says, utterly sincere.

"I have a lot of those too. And you love me, Yura!"

"No."

"Of course you do!"

" _No_."

"Can you two _please_ not do this today?" Yuuri begs, putting his chopsticks down. "I _am_ glad we're all together again, but I'm also- really starting to regret it too."

"Ah, right, what was that for?" Victor suddenly says, making his usual sense, which is to say nothing at all. "Telling Yura to come and everything."

"Fuck you, old man!"

"I'm very happy you're here, Yura! I'm just saying it's odd-"

" _Your face_ is odd!"

Victor honest-to-god gasps at that.

"My face is _beautiful_!"

"Dessert?" Yuuri's mother says in strongly accented English, beaming.

Katsudon mutters something that could mean _We would really like some dessert, thank you very much, mother dearest_ and could mean _Please help me_ , but Yuri doesn't have time to parse it. Victor is shrieking about how much more perfect his cutis is than Yuri's own, and that, that's just _not on_.

And so begins their first yelling match since Saint Petersburg.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri doesn't actually know why he did it.

Inviting Yuri to go with him to Hasestsu had felt natural at the time, and even more than that, it would've felt _unnatural_ not to do it; going back to his home town without Yuri would have been a bit like having a phantom limb, unsettling and uncomfortable and even painful on occasion. But they're all together now and it's home all over again, Victor and Yuri's constant arguing —or Yuri's constant arguing in general—, Victor singing —horribly— under his breath in the mornings, Yuri looking like Christmas has come early every time Yuuri lets out a even a mildly critical statement about anything.

And really, that's all it takes for Yuuri to understand that Hasestsu is a home, but it's not his home base anymore. He's not sure people are supposed to be anyone's home base, though, and he's even less sure than _two_ people are allowed to be. And if he's conflicted about it, it's probably because something _is_ wrong, right?

"I can't believe it," Victor sniffles from Yuuri's bed —that they're not supposed to be sharing, not that it will stop Victor—, rolling dramatically to lay on his stomach. "Yura _insulted_ me! Insulted my face! Insulted my _cow_!"

"Is that a mangled Mulan quote?" Yuuri says, distracted, as tries to discreetly make sure all his Victor posters are properly hidden.

Victor loves that movie. But then again, Victor seems to love every single Disney movie in existence.

"I am talking about _pain_ here, my Yuuri! Betrayal!"

"Vitya, please," Yuuri says, grinning despite himself. "I have fourty eight texts of you gushing about how happy you were Yura was coming with me to Hasetsu."

"We're not talking about that," Victor pouts. "We're talking about how I was cruelly backstabbed." When Yuuri turns to look at him again, though, he's sit up on the bed and his expression is relaxed, almost serious. "You were really happy he came, too," he says, eyes seemingly drilling right into Yuuri's soul. "But I don't think it was for the same reasons. And you still haven't answered my question, Yuuri."

"I don't know, Vitya," Yuuri mumbles. "I just-"

"Aww, does my Yuuri have a crush on the other Yuri?" Victor coos, seamlessly shifting back into his usual cheery self.

Which is, of course, the moment Yuuri trips on thin air and faceplants on the bed, but not before his deep, mortified blush is exposed like a police mugshot. He doesn't want to lift his face from the matress to see which expression Victor is making, but it's a known and long-accepted fact that he hates himself, so he does, and Victor's expression- Victor's expression is unreadable.

"Oh," he only says.

 _That's ridiculous_ , Yuuri wants to reply, or _Don't jump to nonsense conclusions, Vitya_ , but as he thinks of it he has the sudden, horrifying realization that Victor's not entirely wrong. He wishes that hiding under the sheets actually made all his problems go away, but that's never worked for as long as he's tried it, and he doesn't feel up to attempting it one more time —he's already humilliating himself enough as it is—.

"Uhhh-" Yuuri starts, voice shaking.

"I was expecting you to deny it," Victor points out, unbearably calm, and he sounds almost _curious_.

"I would never cheat on you," is what finally comes out, because Yuuri's life is just one fuck-up after the other, without pause, without relief, and he ends up breaking everything he touches. "I- I wouldn't-" he stammers, the beginning of a sob catching in his throat.

It's not _fair_. He isn't allowed to be upset. He's the one hurting _Victor_ , not the other way around.

"Oh, Yuuri!" Victor says, not looking very upset at all. He opens his arms in welcome and Yuuri, weak, selfish Yuuri, immediately falls into them. "Don't worry about it, _solnyshko_ ," he whispers, patting Yuuri's hair like he deserves the comfort. "I know you wouldn't."

"I didn't mean to- It wasn't on purpose, Victor, I just- uh-"

"I don't think anyone ever falls in love on purpose, _solnyshko_ ," Victor says, amused, and Yuuri buries his face deeper into his shoulder and groans. "But, I guess- If anyone needs someone to _try_ to fall in love with them, it's Yura," he adds, pensatively.

Yuuri slaps his arm, hard, before he can stop to think it through.

"Victor!"

"Ah, that was mean, wasn't it?" Victor asks. Yuuri pulls away to gaze at his face, and sure enough, he really _is_ that clueless —sometimes, in really weird ambits—. "Aww, there's my Yuuri!" Victor hums, lifting Yuuri's chin to make him meet his eyes. "Don't be upset! I'm sure he loves you too!"

"...What?"

"Well, who _doesn't_?" Victor replies, with a shrug, utterly oblivious of how Yuuri has just landed in an alternate universe where _nothing_ makes sense anymore. "Besides, everyone in Russia texted me, called me, or- well, Georgi sent a perfumed letter- Anyway, they all asked me if you really were still alive, and since you are, I assume Yura let you call him Yurochka without horrible retribution."

"I- Was I not supposed to? He didn't say anything about it, and he told me not to call him Yurio, so-"

"And he's not as rude to you as he's to most people, either! Uhh, actually, now that I think about it, that probably means he'd marry you in a heartbeat if you asked- and help you hide a body, too, and- well, maybe even those two at the same time..."

"Victor!" Yuuri yells, and grips his hands, hopelessly lost. "What are you- What's going on? Aren't you angry?"

"No, Yuuri," Victor says, a soft, self-depricating smile in his beautiful face. "I was- jealous, at first, when I was still figuring this out- Ah, I'm- I think I'm still jealous now. I'm sorry, Yuuri, I'm just _really_ bad at sharing. But I can try, for you."

"What?" Yuuri whispers.

It's apparently his new favorite word now, but he can't help it, with Victor looking so- so vulnerable and _terrified_ and kind. Yuuri doesn't think he's getting what's actually happening here at all, can't possibly be getting it right, and yet...

"If it makes you happy," Victor insists, painfully earnest, "I'll try to share you with Yura. We can all be one big happy family, alright? Or not that big, I guess, if it's just the three of us... Oh, but Makkachin counts, of course! And Yura's cat! And his grandpa, and your parents and your sister, and your friends if you want-"

"Victor," Yuuri interrupts, softly. He squeezes Victor's hands, trying to ignore how his own are trembling. "Are you saying I should- I should date both you and Yura? At the same time?"

"If that's what you want," Victor replies, solemn and obviously so, so honest.

Yuuri releases Victor's hands and buries back into his arms, clutching the sheets so tightly that he's probably close to ripping them in half.

"I don't know what I want," he whispers, like it's somehow a secret.

"That's alright too, _solnyshko_."

 

* * *

 

The morning after they arrive in Hasetsu is- _awkward_ as fuck, for some reason.

"Are you still pissed about us arguing yesterday?" Yuri grumbles, staring right into Katsudon's big, startled eyes. "C'mon, Katsudon, what did you think would happen if you put Victor and I in the same room again? We weren't going to make fucking flower crowns together, that's for sure."

"Ah- no, it's not that," Katsudon replies, caught off guard. "Uhm-"

"Good, because _he_ started," Yuri says, even though he doesn't actually remember. But it's Victor, so he's almost definitely not off the mark. "Why'd he run off like that anyway?" he adds, shifting on his bed, where they're both currently sitting. Victor had pushed Yuuri into his room, spewed some half-assed excuse, and shut the door on their faces before Yuri had even had time to change out of his —cat— pijamas to go have breakfast. Very suspicious. "I don't trust that old man as far as I can throw him. Maybe we should be checking for-"

"Victor's a good man!" Katsudon interrupts him, weirdly indignant.

Uh. He's usually much more amenable to joking about Victor. It's kind of how they bond, actually. But now his eyes are all bright and his jaw is set in stubborness, and Yuri knows he's somehow crossed a line he didn't even realize was there.

"If you're a dog, I guess," Yuri grudgingly admits. "Or you. But I don't think anyone has ever called him that before."

"They should," Katsudon mutters, rubbing his eyes. He looks very tired, and Yuri knows he has a tendency towards insomnia, but for what he's been told it doesn't usually flare up when Katsudon's in his home town. "He was the one who wanted me to talk to you," he says, and a good number of horrible possibilities pop up in Yuri's mind.

Victor doesn't want Katsudon to talk with Yuri anymore. Victor has somehow found out about Yuri's crush —or _whatever_ — and Katsudon is going to tell him to fuck off, or worse, politely reject him. Katsudon has a life-threatening illness and only has a month left and Victor just didn't want to be there for the screaming when Yuri found out.

"Well?" Yuri says, scowling. "Better spit it out, since you've waken me up anyway."

"You were on your phone," Katsudon reminds him, fond, and some of the tension goes out of him —and in response, most of Yuri's does, too—. But he avoids Yuri's gaze, offering him only a small, tight smile. "VictorsaysI'minlovewithyou," he suddenly babbles, hiding his face behind his hands. "Victor says- he thinks I should be dating both of you. Because I'm in love with both." And then, in a whisper, "Oh, god."

Yuri presses his palms against mattress for grounding, stunned into silence. His mind is- _blank_ , like his brain still hasn't processed anything. Error 404, not found. What. The. Fuck.

"Are you?" he hears himself asking, sounding very far away. "In love with me, I mean."

"Yes," Yuuri replies, in a laughter-sob. "Yes, I really think I am."

"Oh." No, he's still not entirely here. Later he'll be so pissed he missed this. "And Victor offered to- what, share you? Completely unprompted? It was _his_ idea?"

"Yes."

Yuri is silent for so long that Katsudon peeks from between his fingers, and Yuri can see that he's biting his lip nervously, and something in him ties up in knots. He's released back into his body in a single shot, not unlike a blow to the face.

"Was he _drunk_?" he says, incredulous. He leans forward and lies his hands on Katsudon's thighs, and Katsudon finally lets his own hands fall and smiles hesitantly. "What am I even saying- of course he was fucking drunk. Well, fuck him, he can't take it back now."

"He only wants me to be happy," Yuuri explains, in wonder, like he can't believe it himself —or believe he deserves it—.

Yuri can't fucking believe many things, either. There's still some jealousy churning in his gut, and the weird protectiveness that rises everytime Katsudon gets that look on his face, and a lot of confusion because _what the fuck even_ , but most of all, there's this huge amount of _irritation_. Fucking Victor isn't supposed to be all noble, ignoring his natural selfishness to make Katsudon happy.

Not that Yuri is against Katsudon being happy, not even close, but the few times he's allowed himself to imagine how getting together with Katsudon would be like, it didn't include Victor at all. And now fucking Victor has said he'll accept Yuri's presence in his fucking fairy tale for _love_ , which means Yuri is obligated to accept Victor as well, because he fucking loves Katsudon too and he _won't_ be surpassed by fucking Victor in anything, ever again.

"I don't give a fuck about what Victor says," Yuri finally replies, scowling. His nails dig into Katsudon's thighs through his jeans —the ones that look unfairly good on him, although really, everything does—. "Do _you_ want to- to be with both, or what?"

"Yes," Katsudon says, soft, and intertwines their fingers. "If _you_ want. If you can- do that."

What Yuri wants is for them to stop acting like fucking children, so he leans forward to kiss Katsudon and- and he fucking hesitates. He stills an inch away from his lips, Katsudon's hot breath washing against his face, suddenly lost and full-body weak and breathing like he's forgotten how.

He keeps his eyes open until Yuuri closes the distance between them, and then they fall shut on their own, his fingers holding onto Yuuri's. He can feel him smiling into the kiss. It's nothing short of fucking _magic_.

"That's not an answer, Yura," Katsudon mutters, sounding the happiest he has since he met Yuri in Moscow.

"You're going to get sick of us in about a week."

So Katsudon kisses him again, long and gentle, with his fucking core of steel very present underneath it anyway. And because Katsuki Yuuri is nothing if not a contradiction, he feels terrifyingly breakable in Yuri's arms, against Yuri's mouth, and Yuri doesn't know how _not_ to break things but he really has to try this time. He doesn't understand how Victor has managed all this time, when he's not known for being careful with precious things either, but if _he_ can fucking figure it out then so does Yuri.

"I won't," Katsudon says, after they break apart.

It takes Yuri a second to remember what he means, and a second more to realize that it sounds like a promise.

 

* * *

 

"We're going to have to buy a bigger bed," Victor says, cheery.

Yuri's certain his utter disgust and horror show in his face, but he's walking behind Victor, so the old man can't see it. Not that he'd notice _or_ care either way. Katsudon has been shifting between jogging beside Victor and dragging his feet beside Yuri for the entirety of their walk around Hasetsu —because that's his weird concept of fair, apparently, or maybe he just doesn't want either of them to feel abandoned or who-knows-the-fuck-what—, but right now it's Yuri's turn, so he offers him an apologetic, if slightly hopeful smile.

"Don't even think about it," Yuri replies, to both of them. "I haven't fucking forgotten, old man."

"Forgotten what, Yura?" Victor asks, and Yuri's absolutely certain that he's grinning.

"Three years ago," he snaps. "Quebec. They didn't have enough single rooms and it was you or Georgi, back when he was still being all gross with his girlfriend instead of being all creepy alone."

"Ah, right! I remember that you kicked me out of bed, Yura!"

"You remember only what you fucking want!" Yuri yells, ignoring Katsudon's exasperated huff. "You were clinging to me like a weird multi-limbed monster from hell. I couldn't even fucking breathe, and I had to kneel you in the stomach to get loose!"

"He made me sleep on the floor!" Victor complains, staring at Katsudon with big, pleading eyes, the _bastard_. "And I had a competition next day! My back hurt all morning, Yuuri!"

"That's because you're an old man! And you still won fucking gold!"

" _Yuuri_. Help," Victor whines.

Yuri clenches his fists and turns towards Katsudon, probably radiating fury just like Victor is giving off vibes of _pathetic-old-man-trying-to-be-cute_.

"Still not regretting this?" he hisses.

Katsudon only beams, shaking his head. He links their arms together, and then reaches out and drags Victor to his other side, linking their arms as well, until he's walking arm in arm with both of them, Yuri to the left and Victor to the right.

Victor, whose face lights up and- oh, no. _No_.

"We're off to see the Wizard," he sings, entirely too loud and awful and- _fuck everything_. "The wonderful Wizard of Oz!"

Yuri wants to fucking _die_.

"Well," Katsudon sighs, over Victor's enthusiastic _We hear he is a whiz of a wiz, if ever a wiz there was_ , "maybe I regret it a little."

But he doesn't let go of their arms.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Victor Nikiforov is ultimately a Good Man™, I will fight you for this. And whoops, that had more angst than I was expecting it to have aka more than none, but I guess pining is painful.  
> (I'm sorry, my guys, but I'm totally making this up as I go.)


End file.
